


Desperate Hours

by normaljean



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-01
Updated: 2002-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-20 03:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/normaljean/pseuds/normaljean
Summary: Scully has giving up her only son, and is looking to fill the void in her life





	Desperate Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ScullySlash](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Scully_Slash_Archive), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works.. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [ScullySlash's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/scullyslash/profile).

  
Desperate Hours

### Desperate Hours

#### by normaljean2

Date: Friday, May 17, 2002 4:45 PM 

Title: Desperate Hours  
Author: normaljean2  
Cat: Slash Scully/Reyes Angast  
Rating: NC17 Strong sexual content, and colorful language Spoilers: William  
Summary: Scully has giving up her only son, and is looking to fill the void in her life  
Feedback: Lovingly cared for @ Disclaimer: If the show is over does that mean I can claim squatters rights???? ;) Anywho... CC sux... I mean blah blah, 1013 and Fox yada yada. If they were mine... Dana and Monica would be in love and living happily ever after with William in a big farm house in the country...  
  


* * *

Imagine all the people living life in peace John LennonOutside  
of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog its too dark to read  
Groucho Marx-  
(how that for quoting Lennon and Marx) 

She just sits on the couch and stares into the openness of her living room. I am helpless against the devastation she must be feeling. Once again, she has given up someone she loves for the greater good. I sit next to her as an offering of comfort. It is the only thing she will allow at this point. The apartment is unnaturally quiet, as though it some how knows there has been a reduction in occupancy. I want to say something, or reach out and touch her, or do something other than just sitting here like a lump of useless debris. She has made it clear though. She doesn't want to be touched, or spoken to at the moment. She tried to make me leave, but I refused. I have no intention of leaving her alone. She will be lucky if I don't decide to just move myself in. I watch her chew her bottom lip as the constant stream of tears slows to an occasional trickle. The action makes me think that she wants to say something, but all that escapes her is a deep sigh. 

"Can I get you anything?" I cannot help asking, despite knowing there is nothing I can do for her. She forces a half hearted smile, and shakes her head 'no'. I sink back into the feeling of helplessness that has plagued me for the last several days. "Maybe this isn't the best place for you to be right now," I say. The sound of my voice booms through the silence that has become a third entity in the room. She sinks into the sofa, her shoulders slumping to her knees in the process. 

"I'm sure you're right, but I am not going anywhere, and you're under no obligation to stay," she replies. That's hardly the point. 

"I'm not going anywhere, and I don't think you should be alone." It's the only justification I have at the moment. 

"Maybe I want to be alone." She meets my eyes for the first time since making her heartbreaking decision. What I see there scares me, and reinforces my need to stay with her. 

"I'm not leaving." This is non-negotiable. I don't really think she would do anything stupid to herself, but I do fear for her. 

"Neither am I," she states emphatically. We arrive at our impasse. She needs to talk about what she is feeling. 

"Talk to me then," I say softly. I reach out to touch her arm, but think better of it when I see the look on her face. 

"What do you want me to say?" she asks. A humorless chuckle escapes the confines of her chest. 

"Say whatever you want to say Dana, just... don't bottle up like this. Surely there is something you want to express," I reply. She covers her face with her hands, and rubs her eyes. 

"I'm a horrible mother." I don't bother to confirm or deny her statement. Under the circumstances it is a valid feeling. I don't believe it for a second mind you. 

"You did what you felt you had to do. Right or wrong, you did it out of love," I offer. It would be wrong for me to invalidate her guilt at this point. 

"But was it the right thing to do?" 

"I don't know Dana, I am not in your position," I reply. She pushes her hands through her hair, and releases another shaky sigh. "Are you having second thoughts?" It begs to be asked. 

"Second thoughts, third thoughts, you know the deal. I just wish I knew for sure that he was safe, and content." She leans into me, and places her head on my shoulder. The act breaks my heart, and makes it skip a beat at the same time. I slip an arm around her, and pull her closer. 

"I am sure that where ever he is, that he will be loved, and cared for." I can say this with certainty, because I know where he is. I made sure that he went somewhere that I could keep track of him. I can't tell her this though, at least not now. The wound is still too fresh for her, and it would be way too easy to let her talk me into getting him back. 

"How can you be sure?" She asks, though not in a way that would suggest that she knows I am keeping this secret. 

"I just feel it in my bones," I reply, and reach over to push some hair from her face. She snuggles against me, and I can tell by the way her body feels against mine that the past few days are beginning to take there toll on her. She is weary to the core, and I am torn between the secret thrill of having her so close, and her need for rest. 

"Thank you," she says softly. She wraps her arms around me as best she can, and shifts herself until her face is resting on top of my right breast. 

"For what?" I ask, somehow finding a voice despite the physical overload I am experiencing. 

"For being my friend even though I can be a first class bitch. I don't have any female friends anymore ya know." I suddenly feel guilty for the more than friendly thoughts that are running through my head. 

"I will be whatever you need me to be," I reply, then regret the underlying meaning behind it. Fortunately she is too emotionally frazzled to pick up the subtext. At least, I think she is. "Come on let's get you into those fresh sheets," I say, changing the subject before she can react to my last statement. I stand up, bringing her with me at the same time, her hold on me being firmer than I thought. Once we are standing she turns to embrace me fully. 

"Are you going to stay?" she asks into my neck. I squeeze her tightly, pressing the wetness from her tears into my flesh. 

"I thought I made that clear," I assure her. Wild horses could drag me from this overt display of affection. I push her back gently which causes our lips to become dangerously close to one another. I place a hand against her cheek. "I am not going anywhere." For a brief moment, she brings her lips a little closer, then catches herself with a slight flush. 

"You're right, I do need some rest," she says, and shakes her head a little. She pulls away from me, and I let her go without hesitation. I am not sure what that was all about, but something about it sparks the smoldering ember that has been laying in the pit of my stomach since the day I met her. She takes several steps away from me, and turns around when I do not follow. "You should get some sleep too, God knows you have been up as long as I have." She holds her hand out to me, and I take it without thinking. I must be tired. 

"Wait, I'll just crash here on the couch," I say, and pull my hand away from hers. I am surprised to say the least when she comes back to me. 

"Look, that couch is a lousy lay, and I am not taking no for an answer. Besides, as much as I thought I wanted space, I am beginning to realize that what I really want is some companionship." She takes my hand again, only firmer, and pulls me to her bedroom. My head reels trying to figure out what she means by that. Surely it's not the type of companionship that keeps me up late into the night fantasizing about her. 

Once we are inside the room, I hear her gasp slightly. I try to figure out what has caught her attention, and glance around the room suddenly alert. It looks just the same as it did when I cleaned this afternoon. 

"What?" I ask, my eyes not quite adjusted to the darkened room. 

"This bed set, it's not mine." Ah. 

"Yeah I bought earlier. Remember?" 

"Why did you buy a new set? I have like a hundred of them," she replies. 

"You've had a rough couple of days, and I guess I just wanted to do something nice for you," I answer, and the intimacy of the gesture becomes overtly apparent. 

"Oh." She seems a bit taken aback by it as well. "It's kinda funny though, I saw this set just last week at Leggett's." She chews her lip again in retrospect, and her eyes swell with tears again. "I was buying clothes for William, he's just about out grown everything ya know." Damn, way to go Monica. I take her into my arms as she begins to sob uncontrollably. 

"I'm sorry," I whisper against her hair. I regret not paying more on the Visa so I could have gone somewhere else to buy her new sheets. Damn Leggett's for giving me more credit than I needed to furnish my own bedroom. 

"No. No don't be," she says once she gains control of her voice. She pushes herself away from me, but doesn't leave my arms completely. "I have to deal with this, and there are going to be things that remind me of him. Thank you though, for the bedding that is." We are in that position again, and once again, she leans closer before retreating completely. 

"You're welcome," I reply, as I move to the other side of her bed. I do not bother with undressing, and neither does she. Instead we both collapse at the same time into the lush deep blue satin. The cool night air has chilled the fabric pleasantly, and I suddenly realize just how tired I am. I watch her as she settles next to me. She curls herself around a pillow facing me, and our eyes meet once again. The sadness still weighs heavy in the deep blue depths of hers. I hold my arms out to her, and she casts aside the pillow in favor of them. I place a light kiss on her forehead and it causes her to cuddle closer. I stroke her hair softly until her eyes drift closed and her breathing becomes steady with sleep.  
  


* * *

Warm body. Soft, pliant lips. Moist, insistent tongue. I awaken to find myself rather compromised by the woman in my arms. I consider kissing her back despite the potential for repercussion. My own desires take precedent for a moment. I regain a sense of control though, and pull away before she can awaken and realize the liberty I have nearly taken. 

"Please," she whispers softly, her hand making its way to the back of my head, and pulling my mouth back to hers. 

"Dana, wait. Think about what you are doing here," I say, resisting the urge to kiss her. I am hoping against hope that she is still asleep, and in the throws of a very vivid dream. If her eyes weren't wide open, and perfectly clear, I could have maintained that illusion for the rest of my life. 

"I know what I am doing," she says, her tone throaty, and melodic. She presses the leg that is firmly wedged between mine against me more intimately. 

"I really don't think you want to do this," I warn. She flexes her thigh muscle against me like a practiced bull dyke. I am beginning to think that maybe there are some things I have no clue about here. 

"You wanted it a minute ago. I know you did." I cannot deny that. 

"I was confused." It's true. 

"Don't fuck with me Monica. I know the way you look at me. I know you want me, and right now, I want you." Her tone is needy and low. "I ne... I want to be touched." Her words wind down into a soft pant. My first inclination is to fulfill her desire. I have always believed in acting on first thoughts. I relax against her, and she takes it as a go ahead, and she pulls me against her mouth again. She places opened mouth kisses into mine, but I do not allow her the deepening she is seeking. She is desperate and edgy, and it occurs to me just how fucked up emotionally she is at the moment. This is not about attraction, or even desire, I could live with that. But I get the feeling that I could be anyone, and she would be reacting the same way, and that, I can't. I tear myself away from her again. 

"I can't." She looks at me like I have lost my mind. "I am very attracted to you Dana, but I don't want you like this. Not in the wake of Mulder." The mention of his name causes tears to well in her eyes again and my heart aches for her. I reach up and wipe them away gently. I know as much as she didn't want to believe that Spender was Mulder, there was a part of her that wanted it to be him. Fucked up and all, she would have had him. If it had been him, I am sure he would be the one in her bed tonight. "Not like this," I reiterate. She closes her eyes against my touch, and her head tilts down. She pushes herself away from me, and I let her go. The room is charged with left over sexual tension, and she retreats from it as though it were a viper. 

"I'm sorry," she whispers around the angst that has formed a lump in her throat. She is no longer capable of looking me in the eye and she turns away. I spoon behind her, unwilling to let her flounder in pain, but she is stiff and resistant to my touch. 

"Listen to me. If I thought that there was even the slightest chance that you really feel something for me beyond friendship, I would so be making love to you right now," I whisper against her ear. "But I can't let you make another mistake that you will regret. And as much as I want you, I need your friendship more." I hold her more firmly into my body. 

"Let me go please," she says, her tone seething with misplaced anger. She struggles against me, forcing me to hold her tighter. 

"I don't think so." My voice strains with the effort of keeping her in my arms. 

"Why not?" Her tone is petulant, and for a moment she sounds like a spoiled child. 

"Because, I am going to give you what you really want," I reply. 

"What is that?" 

"Compassion." The word hangs in the air for a moment, and once again she goes slack in my arms. "I know what you're thinking Dana, don't confuse what I am offering you, with what you think I want from you." It occurs to me that she did this for a reason though, and maybe one not entirely connected with the lack of a Mulder in her life. "Why did you kiss me?" Call a burning desire for knowledge. She sighs wearily, and relaxes into me a little more. It is not a good relaxed though. It reminds me more of a resigned to fate kinda thing. 

"Because... You have been so kind to me. Often in the wake of some pretty harsh behavior on my part. And I guess I feel like I have been using you as an emotional crutch, and not giving anything back. I know that all you have ever offered me is kindness and I have never even thanked you." That's almost as bad as being a substitute for Mulder. 

"That's no reason to kiss me," I reply. 

"You're right, but I know that being close to me was affecting you... physically." I actually blush when I realize what she is talking about. I become aware of the dampness between my legs and the stiffness of my nipples pressed into her back. 

"I am a woman Dana. Just because you are turning me on doesn't necessarily mean I want to have sex ya know," I reply. She chuckles genuinely for the first time in a while. 

"I guess I wasn't thinking in those terms," she says thoughtfully. I snuggle her closer, despite the growing warning signs. 

"What terms where you thinking in?" I can't seem to keep from laying land mines here. 

"I wanted to give back to you." The statement floors me, and all at once I remember why I find this woman so remarkable. To actually go against the grain of her nature to give back to me leaves me speechless for a moment. I press a desperate kiss of my own into her hair. 

"I thank you for that," I say, once I have found my voice again. I feel something wet splash down on the arm that helps the pillow that supports her head. It is a tear. It travels a slick trail down my arm, and lands in the palm of my hand. I squeeze it tightly until it absorbs completely into my flesh. 

Silence drifts into the room like a specter, and touches us both with a chilly hand. We seem to shiver at the same time from it. The weariness takes over again, and it doesn't take long for her breathing to become deep, and her body to become pliant against mine. The steady beating of her heart thuds lightly against my breast. I realize even if I never hold her like this again, it is enough to keep me going for the rest of my life.  
  


* * *

I am cold. I was warm, and now I am cold. I am slow to process why this is. I feel the place on the bed next to me. It is empty. It wasn't like that when I fell asleep I am fairly certain. The early light of dawn peeks into my bedroom window causing my room to be bathed in a soft pinkish glow. I cheek the clock next to me. Six thirty-two, it glares back. She must have left fairly recent. Or never went back to sleep, and left after I did. She had assured me that she would not leave me, but I am trying not to see this as a betrayal on her part. I laid some pretty heavy shit at her door earlier, and I wouldn't blame her from not wanting to around in the morning either. I am still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I kissed her. 'I am very attracted to you Dana.' How effortlessly the words fell from her lips. They haunt me, as does the phantom feel of her mouth against mine. I still can't believe how easily she admitted to the attraction. How open she was about the fact that I had turned her on. It would have been so easy for her to deny everything, to make me feel like it was all in my head. I would have believed her too. I wish I had been more articulate with what I meant to say to her. I wish I hadn't made her feel that she was a substitute. I know how bad that hurts, to be someone's second choice. I can only hope that she doesn't consider her self the last resort. The sound of the door knob rattling pulls me out of my musings. I reach behind my head, and slip my hand underneath my pillow. My SIG rests in its usual position, and it occurs to me that she must have put it back there for me. The door begins to open slowly, as if who ever is coming through prefers to kill me in my sleep. I draw my gun, and point it squarely at the door. 'Don't shoot till ya see the whites of they're eyes,' runs through my head like a mantra. 

"Freeze. Get your hands up," I say calmly. Monica steps completely into the room with her hands raised just above her head. 

"I cooked a little, but I swear I cleaned up everything," she says innocently. I can't decide if she is serious or not. None the less, I lower my gun, and slip it back under my pillow. 

"Sorry. I thought that you had left. What are you doing up so early?" I ask. I am immensely relieved that she did not go. 

"I told you I wasn't going anywhere. What do you mean by early?" she asks, a confused look on her face. I glance at the clock again. Six thirty-five. 

"It's only six thirty." She blinks a few times in rapid succession like she is processing the information. 

"Yeah, in the evening. Dana you have been asleep for the last fourteen hours." It is my turn to process. She comes closer, and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. 

"Really?" I swear I could sleep for fourteen more. 

"Yeah, I was just coming in here to check up on you, make sure you weren't cold or anything," she says, and her cheeks blush a little. The smell of whatever it is she was cooking begins to waft into the room. The sent is savory and causes my tummy to grumble, and my mouth to water. I realize I haven't eaten since early yesterday morning. She had forced hot chocolate and a cheese Danish from the hospital cafeteria on me then. 

"What are you cooking?" I ask as I close my eyes and try to decipher the smells. 

"Nothing special... I just threw together a lasagna, some bread and a salad. You hungry?" I lick my lips at the thought of hot, home cooked food and she watches me do it conspicuously. I do it again, because I like the look in her eye. 

"Starved actually," I reply. God knows that applies on so many levels. But I will settle for the lasagna at the moment.  
  


* * *

I stare at the one pound slice of heaven the she has meticulously laid across the bone white plate with two pieces of homemade French bread flanking it. There is a large bowl of salad to my right, and a hefty glass of my favorite vino to my left. Threw together my ass, but I have to admit, the kitchen is spotless. I glance up from the spectacle on my plate to see her openly watching me. She has lit the candles on my table, and that and the light of the setting sun coming through the window behind her causes a golden glow to surround her. She is chewing the spot just below her bottom lip in anticipation. I meet her eyes squarely, and dig my fork into the food without looking at it. Once I am certain that I have gathered a satisfactory bite, I bring it to my lips. Her eyes move from mine to my lips, and when I am certain that she is completely focused, I slide the fork in, and then out again slowly. I watch her face as I do this making sure that her eyes stay put. I allow my tongue to snake out, and I lick the few particles of sauce, that didn't make into my mouth, away slowly. Her lips seem to part of their own accord from the gesture. 

"Mmmm... this is ah... quite good," I say. I surprises the grin that threatens when my words snap her back to attention. She blushes again, and for that instant, I wish I could read her mind, and know what she was thinking when she did it. 

"Good. Good, I am glad you like it," she says as she clears her throat. "I um... I need to freshen up a bit, maybe take a shower if that is all right." Her eyes tour the room to avoid looking at me. So much for female restraint. The very idea that I have her scrambling for a shower forces the grin to my face. 

"Sure thing. Help yourself to what ever you need. "You need some clothes or something?" I ask. 

"Actually, I ran home briefly this morning and packed a bag. I hope that wasn't too presumptuous. I just don't feel good about leaving you alone right now." Actually it works for me because I don't feel good about being alone either. 

"That's fine actually. I'm not really ready for you to leave either," I say, and offer her a smile. She tries to be cool about my admission, but I can see her radiate from it. Now, if I can just figure out what I want to do about it.  
  


* * *

I turn away from her before she can see the smile that threatens to split my face in two. She needs me, nothing more. Still, I can't help but wonder about that little display a moment ago. Does she have any idea of how hypnotic her lush full lips are? Did she have any idea that watching her show them off like that actually gave me that not so fresh feeling? Does she have a clue that I plan on using the ultra deluxe shower head I have noticed in the guest bathroom to alleviate some of the tension the has been burning deep inside of me since last night? I shudder at the thought that she might. 

"If you need me..." She waves me off, and shovels another fork full of food into her mouth. I cannot help but notice it did not have the same flare as the first bite. Was she teasing me before? I excuse myself from the table, and grab my bag that is sitting on the couch.  
  


* * *

She is sitting on the couch when I emerge from the bathroom. The candles are still lit, and the lamp next to her is turned down to it's lowest setting. A small fire knocks the chill from the open window that is allowing the coolness of early spring and the sweet smell of cherry blossoms in. Soft jazz drifts around to the corners of the room that are left untouched by light or sent. If this were different circumstances, I would have to say that she was attempting to seduce me, and well. 

"Thank you for dinner," she says softly. Her words freeze me because I did not think she was aware of me yet. "Come sit with me," she adds when I make no move to do so on my own. I am propelled to the spot next to her on the couch, and that is when I realize that she has changed her clothes as well. She has slipped into a two piece PJ set that matches the color of her eyes almost exactly. I become overtly aware of the black teddy that I am wearing under my knee length terry robe, and I suddenly feel quite naked. What was I thinking? 

"You're welcome for dinner," I reply as she hands me a glass of wine. I watch her as she sinks into the overstuffed cushion on her side of the sofa. She sips her wine, and once again I am giving an exaggerated display of her lips. Her features are pensive, despite the casualness her body language would suggest. There is something on her mind, that much is obvious, but at this point I wouldn't hazard a guess as to what it is. She takes a deep breath, and I find myself staring at the rise and fall of her chest as she does it. 

"Did you really mean it when you said you where attracted to me last night?" she asks. 

"I even meant it when I said you had me turned on," I reply. She may regret opening this can of worms, but if she wants to go there we can. She flushes a little at the admission. "Is that a problem for you?" I really don't think it is considering that if I had let her, she would have had her tongue down my throat. Of course, fourteen hours of sleep has a way of changing ones perspective a bit. 

"Not a problem, but I do think we need to clear some things up before we go to bed tonight." I don't like the sound of this. 

"Like what?" I ask, and I am certain she can hear the nervous quiver in my voice. She does, and she sits her glass down so that she can put both of her hands on my arm. 

"Like, your not here because I miss Mulder. I want you to understand that. I want YOU here." She emphasizes the 'you' part and I feel my heart try to leap through my chest and into hers. "I didn't do a very good job of expressing myself last night. Hell I don't even know if I am doing a good job of it now, but I really want you to know that you mean a great deal to me." I make a move to say something, but she places a finger over my lips, and shakes her head 'no'. "Let me finish what I want to say to you." Her finger remains in place as she takes a deep breath and holds my eyes to hers with a steady gaze. "It scares me to think about how you feel about me, but not for the reason you might think. I know you think that I am not open, and in a lot of ways, I'm not. However, I am not... closed off to alternative relationships." I am trying to wrap my brain around what she is saying. 

"What kind of alliterative relationships are we talking about here?" I ask. Her finger still rests against my bottom lip, and her eyes suddenly shift focus to my mouth. 

"The kind where it is OK to do this..." Her hand slips back and into my still wet hair, and her lips replace the finger that left mine slightly chilled. If it ends before I can count to three then it doesn't have to mean anything. OK... Here we go... Starting to count... 1 Mississippi... 2 Mississippi... 3 Mississippi.... Her lips are still firmly planted against mine, and the lingering effect cannot be denied. This is more than a friendly thank you kiss, much more. Her lips part slightly, as do mine and my bottom lip slips into her mouth. Her tongue glides across it briefly, and I realize that this is the turning point. I pull away, still reluctant to allow myself the belief that she could possibly want me as much as I want her. 

"I'm sorry," I whisper hoarsely, as I push her back and away from me. "I just can't let this happen. Not right now, not while..." She silences me with a finger to my lips again. 

"Shhh, it's Okay. You're right. I shouldn't even be thinking about this kind of thing until I am more emotional stable." She sits back, and turns away from me completely. "I promise I won't come at you like this again." I have the feeling I have yet to truly comprehend the scope of which her promises are kept. The persistent nagging in the back of my head tells me not to let it stop here, not to let her withdraw like this. I push it back though. How can I bring her joy in the midst of all her sorrow? I feel like I should say something encouraging, but God knows what that could be at the moment. 

"Dana..." 

"Please don't. I understand that you don't want this, and I can't take another emotional blood letting right now," she replies. She pushes herself away from the couch, and stands up. I can tell she is trying to keep me from seeing the tears that threaten to spill over again. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Here she is, offering me the thing that has preoccupied my mind for the last year or so, and I keep telling her no. I keep breaking her heart, when I all want to so is heal it. She wants me to heal it. She has practically begged me to heal it. 

"Dana please wait," I say, and stand up as well. She looks so small and helpless when she turns in my direction. It is all I can do to keep from taking her with a force that scares even me. Instead, I pull her to me. I am amazed at how easily she comes to me in the wake of my rejection. I tilt her chin up, and force eye contact. I am ashamed of what I see in her eyes, of what I have put there. She is so right, she can't take any more, and if I don't do something she may never have the courage to feel again. So I kiss her. I kiss her with the compassion I have placed such emphasis on, and she melts against me. Then, I kiss her with the passion I have been restraining for so long. It causes her to vocalizes a gasp that resonates deep with in me, and I feel myself coming undone with desire. I become the aggressor, and push my tongue past her trembling lips, and deep into her mouth. She moans into the action, and her hand weaves it's self into a tangle in my hair. She pulls me in deeper, and I can practically feel the energy that radiates off of her. She sucks my tongue firmly, and I try to fathom the connection linking it to my very center. I grind into the leg that she has wedge between my thighs, shamelessly seeking attention there. She pulls away from me suddenly, and I am left gasping for air. 

"Wait a minute," she says between pants. She presses my forehead against hers, and takes three large gulps of air. I do the same. Something tells me I am going to need to stock up on the oxygen. She licks the fullness of her lips lightly, and takes a few more labored breaths. She tilts up to look at me from a less distressing angle. "Okay... My turn." It is the only warning she gives me before pushing her mouth back to mine, and filling it with her tongue. She circles the inside of my mouth slowly, as her other hand begins to travel gently up the side of my body. When she reaches the side of my breast, her hand moves inward until she is cupping me softly. Her thumb travels up, and brushes feather strokes against my nipple until it is swollen to a peak. I groan from the sensation, and she presses her leg more firmly against my aching need. Her hand slides down from my breast reaching the modest knot in my terry robe. It dissipates with a single tug. It is my turn to pull away though. 

"Wait..." I say firmly, as I try to catch my breath again. 

"Bedroom?" she pants out, a hopeful tone edging into the word. 

"Yeah." Exactly. That is where I want to be. She takes my hand and begins to lead me though the kitchen and to her room.  
  


* * *

The room feels different. There are subtleties that are missing. Gaps where something should be... My brain is too idled to process what is missing, and she doesn't give me time to contemplate it for very long. Once we are inside she shuts the door, and eyes me with a look that leaves me breathless. She marches on me, and pushes my robe to the floor as soon as her hands are close enough. She considers my teddy briefly, before pulling the straps down, and pushing the garment beyond my waist. She kneels before me, and pushes it the rest of the way down until I am able to step out of it. She has me completely naked, and she is on her knees in front of me. My mind tries to make sense of this information, but in truth I am still too stunned from the look she gave me earlier. It actually take me a minute to process the fact that she is touching me, intimately. The feeling is quick to recover though, and I am suddenly thrust into physical overload. I look down to see her staring at my... Well you know... There is desire written across her face, and she licks her lips in, what can only be described as, anticipation. The site is overwhelming. She runs her fingers through slit of my vagina gently, and parts the labia with two practiced fingers. She leans in and inhales my sent, before allowing her tongue a tentative taste. My knees threaten to buckle from the action, but she steadies me with an arm around my butt, and the other around my knees. She pulls me into her waiting mouth. She kisses me languorously there. She finds the distended bundle of nerves that make up my clitoris, and sucks it firmly. I reach for a conveniently placed bed post to keep from falling to the floor. I reach down with my other hand and cup the back of her head for support. I would certainly hate for her to tire too quickly. She relaxes her head into my hand, and she pulls me further into her. She devours me, devastating my clit with an oral aptitude I had now idea she possessed. She brings her hand that was on my ass around to my front, and penetrates my opening with a deep thrust. Oh My God. 

"Jesus, I'm coming." The words rip from my chest on the heels of a deep moan. She holds me to her firmly, her mouth taking me further up as my orgasm seizes me. She sucks me again, and I shatter as I crash through to the next pinnacle. I begin to quiver against her, my body taking on a jell-o like quality. My mind has left the building. I can no longer function on my own accord.  
  


* * *

She collapses to her knees before me. The command of her orgasm has taken away her ability to stand, and I have to admit I enjoy the power of having rendered her helpless. 

"My God Dana," she whispers breathlessly against the shell of my ear. The weak tremble of her tone shatters the last of my doubts about her... about us. I am reminded again of what intimacy with another woman can be like. The overwhelming emotion that can take place in the wake of a mind shattering orgasm is like a drug. It is vice that I had vowed long ago never to indulge in again, but there was something about this woman. She has been stamping out my reservations from the moment I first meet her eyes, and saw the openness of her heart. I resisted the feelings that had threatened to take hold of me on more than one occasion with her. Despite my attraction to Mulder, he had been much easier to keep at arm's length. He could be shoed away like a pitiful puppy that had just relieved it's self on the carpet, and knew better, but not her. She is too pure to harbor guilt over her feelings for me. I, on the other hand, seem to thrive on good old fashion Irish Navy guilt. This can put Jewish guilt to shame any day of the week. "What are you thinking Dana?" she asks, and I realize that I have been silently holding her for the last few minutes. 

"Nothing... How beautiful you are when you come." It is not exactly what I was thinking of course, but the principal is the same. She bows her head into my neck, and even though I cannot see it, I can tell that I have made her blush again. 

"I bet you are too," she replies softly against my neck, just before sucking my jugular deep into her mouth. I cry out at the sensation. That's gonna leave a mark. Not that I care. I am beyond caring about anything at this point, other than her. She releases the responsive skin with an auditable plop, causing me to shudder against her nude body. She braces herself, and stands bringing me along for the ride up. "I want to see you come Dana." The sound of my name, and the context of her statement nearly push me over the edge as it where. She begins to undo the buttons of my pajama top slowly, touching me as though I was made of porcelain. It is maddening and titillating at the same time. She completes the task and slips my top off, allowing it to fall the floor without a second thought. She feather strokes my arms sending chills up as she progresses down. She slips her hands into the waist of my bottoms, and reaches around to cup my ass gently. She kisses me slowly as her hands push the remaining fabric down far enough for gravity to do the rest. She pushes her tongue deeper into my mouth, and we become a tangle of flesh and desire. She turns me around so that she can move me onto the bed, her intentions far less savage than mine had been. She is going to make love to me, and the knowledge leaves me in breathless anticipation. She moves me up the bed, keeping me under her as we make our way to the headboard. She places open mouthed kisses on my neck and cleavage until she is satisfied with our position, then she covers me with her body. We meld together in all the right places, and she begins a slow grind against my pelvis. She kisses me deeply as her hips take me higher and higher until I a dizzy from the vantage point. Or maybe it is just the lack oxygen to my brain. She slips a hand between us and begins to stroke the sensitive bud of my center. I groan into her mouth, and she devours it hungrily. She presses a delicate finger deep into me, strumming my insides like a dedicated musician, and pushing me further against of my frame. God I am so close. She pulls her lips from mine, and meets my eyes steadily. She can tell how close I am to breaking free of my confines, and pushes another finger in, doubling her effort to watch me as I come. My peak comes in a sudden burst destroying me and reforming me at the same time. Her eyes flood with renewed desire as my dam bursts and I am carried away on the flood water. 

"Fuck." It is the only word I can properly articulate at the moment. Her fingers take me beyond reality, and into a more cosmic place. A place where thought and form coexist in perfect harmony. She smiles at the blathering idiot I have become in the wake of my orgasm, and pulls her fingers away from me gently. 

"That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," she says around the smile that just won't go away. She kisses me and it is almost chaste, until she just can't stand it anymore, and deepens it mightily.  
  


* * *

She sleeps the sleep of the satisfied. A condition that I take a great deal of pride in having bestowed on her. She is wrapped in my arms much the same way she was last night. The major difference being that if she awakens me with kisses tonight I will be more than happy to oblige them. 

-fin 

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